


Over the Edge

by MysteriousMidnight



Series: Dear Evan Hansen Smut One Shots [5]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Also some fluff, Anal Sex, And smut don't forget the smut, Angst, Blow Job, Bottom Connor, Conguel, Cutting, Established Relationship, First Time Sex, Hand Job, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lots of Angst, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Smut, Top Miguel, everyone is over 18, self-harm scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25301752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteriousMidnight/pseuds/MysteriousMidnight
Summary: Connor wants to take his and Miguel's relationship to the next level, but there's something he hasn't told Miguel.
Relationships: Miguel/Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen)
Series: Dear Evan Hansen Smut One Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825033
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	Over the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> This was a simple one shot request for "bottom Connor." It turned into a hurt/comfort, angsty, fluffy smut fic that took on a life of it's own. So yeah, haha. Enjoy!

“Let’s fuck.”

Miguel startled, eyes widening. He glanced sideways at Connor, who lay beside him, staring intently up at Miguel’s ceiling.

“I- _what_?”

“Did I stutter?” Connor demanded, but he was grinning.

“ _Principito_... As much as I want to, you’re _high_.”

“So are you”

“Right. So _neither_ of us is in a consenting state of mind. Plus, I don’t want us to be high our first time together - and your first time ever. I want us to _remember_ it.”

“What if I don’t want to remember?” Connor grumbled.

Miguel rolled onto his side, placing a hand on Connor’s stomach. Connor flinched, but didn’t pull away.

“ _Principito_ -“

“What if I’m terrified and I lose my nerve when I’m sober?” Connor blurted. Then, he seemed to realize what he’d said; his eyes widened and he threw an arm over his face to cover his eyes.

Miguel shrugged, rubbing lazy circles into Connor’s stomach. “Then we’ll wait until you’re sober and _not_ terrified.”

Connor kept his arm over his eyes, chewing his lip.

Miguel remained silent, giving Connor a chance to think and process. He knew Connor’s thoughts had been fixated on this for a while. They’d messed around a bit, done other things, but every time Connor thought he was ready for more, he got scared and backed out. Miguel assured him, every single time, that it was no big deal and they wouldn’t do anything he wasn’t comfortable with.

But Connor felt like a coward. He knew Miguel had had a few partners before him. It was no secret; nothing between them was a secret. They told each other everything.

Except.

Except Connor hadn’t told Miguel about his scars.

So far, he’s avoided the discussion by keeping his shirt and hoodie on whenever they did anything. He’d let Miguel push them up to lick and kiss his chest and stomach, but he’d refused to let him take them off entirely. He knew Miguel was getting suspicious, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Miguel the truth.

“ _Principito_?”

Connor jumped, finally glancing up at Miguel.

“What’s going on up there?” He asked, tapping Connor’s head gently.

Connor shrugged, sitting up and resting his back against the wall.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s scaring you, exactly,” Miguel said as he sat up beside Connor, wrapping an arm around him. “And maybe we can figure out a way to make you more comfortable. But, like, we’re still not doing this when we’re high.”

Connor huffed a sigh. “I... I don’t know.”

“If you can’t trust me to tell me what’s scaring you, how can you trust me to keep you safe if we actually have sex?”

“I _do_ trust you,” Connor said quickly, pulling away to look at him. “It’s not that.”

Miguel turned so he was facing Connor, then reached a hand out. Connor immediately placed his hand in Miguel’s, and Miguel gave it a squeeze.

“I just...” Connor frowned. He couldn’t tell Miguel what was _really_ worrying him, so he said the first thing he could think of. “I’m scared it’ll hurt,” he blurted.

Miguel nodded. “Well, yeah. If you bottom, it might. But we can go at your pace, take it slow. Or you can top. I’m fine with either.”

Connor nodding, staring down at the ground again.

“Something else bothering you, _principito_?”

“No. Can we just drop it? I’m tired.” He stood abruptly and plopped onto Miguel’s bed, turning onto his side so he was facing the wall. He heard Miguel sigh, then felt the bed dip. Miguel curled up behind him, wrapping Connor in a hug. He kissed his cheek, then settled in.

“Sleep, _principito_. You’re safe, I promise.”

Connor felt tears prick his eyes.

~*~*~

When Connor woke up, Miguel was gone. He sat up, rubbing his gritty eyes.

He stood and shuffled to the bathroom, partially closing the door behind him. He stared at himself in the mirror for a minute before unzipping his hoodie and tossing it onto the toilet, frowning down at his arms. Most of the marks were scars in varying shades of pink and white, some faded almost completely. But he’d slipped a week ago, after a particularly bad day and a nasty fight with his dad.

He gritted his teeth, angry at himself. These stupid cuts and scars were keeping him from getting closer to the one person who seemed to actually care. Tears filled his eyes for the second time that day. That made him angrier; he hated crying. He swept his hand across the counter, knocking everything onto the floor. A glass bottle shattered, the noise making him flinch. 

“Great,” he growled, kneeling down to clean up the mess he’d made, but he lost his balance and his knee fell right into the mess of broken glass. He hissed, feeling a shard cut through his pants, right into his knee.

“Connor?”

He jumped, twisting around and falling on his ass. He glanced up at Miguel, who was staring at him with wide eyes.

“I-“ Connor swallowed, grabbing the tub to help himself up, but the movement caused the glass in his knee to dig in further. He hissed in pain, sinking back to the floor.

“Hey, hey,” Miguel said softly, carefully stepping around the mess to get to Connor. “You’re bleeding, _principito_ ,” he said, resting a hand on Connor’s thigh. “Stay here, okay?”

Connor nodded, curling his arms around his stomach in an effort to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. It was only then, as Miguel was running out of the bathroom, that he realized he didn’t have his hoodie on.

“Fuck,” he groaned, glancing to where it rested - just out of reach.

When Miguel came back, he was dragging the vacuum.

“I know your knee hurts, _principito_ , but I need to clean this up so we don’t get hurt again, okay?”

Connor nodded, refusing to look up at him. Miguel frowned, carefully tossing the big chunks of glass into the garbage, then vacuuming the smaller pieces up. He didn’t worry about picking up the other stuff, just shoved it aside so he could reach the first aid supplies. Then he sat in front of Connor to examine his knee.

“It’s just one big piece. This might hurt, okay? You can hold my hand,” he said gently, holding his hand out to Connor. But Connor refused, pressing his arms tighter against his body. Miguel frowned, but took ahold of the glass. “On three, okay?” When Connor nodded, Miguel yanked the glass out. “Three.”

Connor yelped, glaring at Miguel. “Forget how to count?”

Miguel shrugged innocently. “Maybe. You’re gonna have to take your pants off so I can clean the cut, though.”

Connor brought his knees to his chest, curling into himself. He hissed, the movement stretching the cut and making him bleed more.

“I’ve seen you without pants,” Miguel said with a smirk. “Your pale, hairy legs won’t scare me.”

Connor said nothing. He felt miserable; his knee was throbbing, but he couldn’t get his pants off without Miguel seeing his arms. Unless he asked for his hoodie, and even then, Miguel would see them when he shifted to put it back on. And asking him to close his eyes would definitely make Miguel suspicious.

Miguel sighed, shifting closer to Connor and petting his hair. “ _Principito_ , please talk to me.”

Connor shook his head. “You’ll hate me.”

“I could _never_ hate you, _principito_ ,” Miguel scoffed. “I love you.”

Connor looked up, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I know we haven’t said it before, and I don’t know if now is a good time or not, but it’s how I feel, and I think you need to hear it,” Miguel shrugged. “Maybe knowing I love you to the moon and back will give you the courage to be real with me.”

Connor couldn’t do anything but stare at Miguel in shock.

“ _Principito_?” He asked nervously. “You don’t have to say it back or anything, it’s fine..” He waved a hand in Connor’s face. “Did I break you? Is there a reset button?” He joked.

Connor shook his head. “I- No, I’m- I’m fine. Sorry. I just...” He swallowed. “I-I love you too.”

Miguel smiled, leaning forward and giving Connor a kiss. When he pulled away, he could see Connor was furiously blinking back tears.

“Now talk to me, _principito_. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Connor licked his lips. Well, it was now or never... Slowly, he unfurled his arms and held them out to Miguel.

Miguel choked back a gasp, taking one of Connor’s arms and running his fingers over the scars, hesitating over the ones that had clearly been made recently.

“ _Principito_... Why? Why would you do this to yourself?”

Connor flinched, pulling back. He should have known better... He should have known this would be the reaction he’d get. He stood abruptly, blinking back tears; he would _not_ cry in front of Miguel again. He grabbed his hoodie off the toilet, yanking it on as he stormed (well, limped, because his knee was on fire) out of the bathroom and back to Miguel’s room to retrieve his boots.

“Where are you going?” Miguel asked, scrambling to his feet and hurrying to follow Connor.

“Home,” Connor growled.

“ _Principito_ -“

“No, it’s fine,” Connor snapped. “You don’t have to pretend to care.”

“ _What_?” Miguel demanded. “What makes you think I don’t care?”

Connor yanked his boots on, then stomped towards the door. Miguel stepped in his path to stop him.

“Connor, tell me why you think I don’t care,” Miguel said firmly.

“Move, Miguel, I swear-“

“No. Not until you tell me what I said to upset you so much.”

Connor snarled at him, trying to move around him, but Miguel moved with him.

“Move, or I’m gonna-“

“What?” Miguel asked, quirking a brow. “What? You’ll hit me? Shove me?”

“I’m clearly capable of those things, and worse, so,” Connor sneered. “Just move and I can be out of your hair, okay?”

Miguel crossed his arms. “Nope. Not letting you leave when you’re this angry, _principito_.”

Connor fidgeted, fisting his hands at his side. Miguel glanced down at it, then looked up at Connor.

“Go ahead. If it makes you feel better, hit me.”

“I-what?” Connor asked, eyes widening.

Miguel shrugged. “If you need to hit something, hit me. But then you owe me an explanation.”

Connor stared at him, frozen.

“Hit me or talk to me, because I’m not letting you leave until you do one or the other,” Miguel shrugged.

Connor seemed to deflate. He stepped backwards, stumbling a little, before moving to Miguel’s bed and sitting with his back against the wall. Miguel joined him, sitting beside him.

“I care, _principito_ ,” Miguel said gently. “I don’t know why you thought I didn’t, but I do.”

Connor felt his chin trembling. “I don’t know,” he mumbled.

Miguel held his hand out to Connor. Connor reluctantly took it, letting Miguel lace their fingers.

“I was shocked,” Miguel admitted. “And a little bit scared. But that’s _because_ I care, because I _love_ you and don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Connor sniffled, burying his face in Miguel’s shoulder. “I- I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m a fuck up. I’m sorry I’m disgusting. I’m sorry I destroyed your bathroom. I-“

“Shhh,” Miguel hushed him, kissing the top of his head. “You’re not a fuck up. You’re not disgusting. And everything in the bathroom is replaceable. You’re not.”

Connor choked back a sob, wrapping his arm around Miguel’s stomach, getting as close as he could. Miguel pulled him in for a hug, kissing the top of his head again, over and over while Connor sobbed into his shoulder.

“Will you let please let me clean your knee now?” Miguel asked after a few minutes. Connor sniffled, but nodded. “I need to get up and go get the- okay, never mind,” he chuckled, when Connor whined and threw a leg over him to keep him from moving.

“Okay, but I really _do_ need to clean and bandage that cut, _principito_ ,” Miguel said after awhile, rubbing Connor’s back. “And then we can snuggle, okay?”

Connor huffed, but nodded, shifting off Miguel.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” he said, hurrying out of the room. When he came back, he set the first aid supplies on the bed, then sat back down. “Pants.”

Connor undid his jeans, yanking them and his boxers off in one go. Miguel blinked at him.

“Um, I’m bandaging your knee, not your dick. But I appreciate the view.”

Connor smirked, shrugging. “I mean, I’m sober now. So.”

“Knee first,” Miguel said, grabbing gauze pads and antiseptic. He dabbed at the cut on Connor’s knee. Connor hissed, pulling his leg back.

“I mean.. Can’t fuck till your knee is taken care of, so..” Miguel shrugged. Connor scowled, moving his leg closer to Miguel again. Miguel smirked at him, cleaning the cut and bandaging it. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Connor stuck his tongue out.

“Hey, don’t stick that out unless you intend to use it, _principito_ ,” Miguel chided, waggling his finger at Connor.

Connor shifted closer, capturing Miguel’s finger in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, grazing his teeth against it as he pulled off. He grinned at Miguel. “Don’t worry, I plan to.”

“Shit,” Miguel mumbled, as Connor pushed him down onto his back, crawling up his body and sitting on his lap. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Miguel’s lips. Miguel deepened the kiss, sneaking a hand between them and wrapping it around Connor’s dick. Connor groaned into the kiss, dropping his head onto Miguel’s shoulder when he started pumping his hand up and down, changing his grip and speed with every pump until Connor was panting and gasping.

Suddenly, Connor pulled away, licking his lips. He tugged at the hem of Miguel’s pants. “You have too much clothing on,” he scolded.

“Well, you have hands,” Miguel pointed out, smirking up at him. “You could help me fix that problem.”

Connor grinned, undoing Miguel’s button and zipper, then yanking his pants and boxers off in one go. Miguel shimmied to help him, then yanked his shirt off.

“You’re hot,” Connor growled, leaning in and taking Miguel’s dick in his mouth. Miguel moaned, throwing his head back. Connor bobbed up and down, swirling his tongue over the tip.

“Mmmmfff _FUCK_ ,” Miguel cried, bucking his hips up.

Connor smirked, moving further down to lick and suck Miguel’s balls before taking him back into his mouth completely, gently grazing Miguel’s length with his teeth. Miguel gasped, pushing Connor back and sitting up.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked quickly, reaching for Miguel’s hand and squeezing.

Miguel nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “But if you really do wanna do more, we have to stop before you send me over the edge,” he admitted with a sheepish smirk. Miguel reached out, tugging the zipper of Connor’s hoodie down. Connor let him, shaking it off without hesitation. He yanked his shirt off, throwing it and his hoodie into the pile with their other clothes.

“You know, for someone who was so nervous earlier-“

Connor waved him off. “You saw my scars and told me you _love_ me. I-“ He swallowed, shaking his head. “I’m good. I want to do this.”

Miguel nodded. “I can bottom.”

“I, um... I actually kinda wanna bottom.. if that’s okay..”

Miguel nodded. “As long as you’re sure. You said you were scared earlier, so.”

Connor shrugged. “It... I was more scared about showing you my scars, and used that as an excuse to avoid telling you the truth. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely fucking scared it’ll hurt, but I trust you. Plus..” He paused, crawling closer to Miguel and whispering in his ear, “I wanna ride you.”

When he pulled back, Miguel was staring at him with an open mouth and wide, lust-filled eyes.

“Shit, _principito_..”

“Do you have the stuff?”

Miguel leaned over, grabbing lube and a condom from his night table. He sat up, motioning Connor to take his place. Connor lay down on his back, pulling his knees up. He watched as Miguel squirted lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together. He placed his free hand on Connor’s knee, then placed his other between Connor’s legs.

“Remember, _principito_ ,” he said, making eye contact with Connor. “Tell me if you need to stop or if anything doesn’t feel right, okay?”

“Yeah,” Connor nodded, swallowing his fear. “Yeah, I know. You, too.”

Miguel nodded. He pressed one finger to Connor’s entrance, teasing circles and rubbing up and down to relax him before slipping his finger inside. Connor made a small noise, tightening around him before relaxing.

“I’m fine,” Connor reassured him. “That always feels weird. Keep going.”

Miguel pumped his finger slowly in and out, picking up speed when he felt Connor’s muscles relaxing.

“Another,” Connor groaned.

Miguel complied, pushing a second finger slowly in beside the first. Connor hissed, pressing his hips down into the bed.

“It’s okay, _principito_ ,” Miguel purred, keeping his hand still.

“I’m good,” Connor replied, whining when Miguel started pumping his fingers in and out again, scissoring them. He curved his fingers up, making Connor cry out in pleasure when he hit his prostate.

“C-can you, um..” Connor gasped, whimpering.

“You’re shaking,” Miguel frowned, stilling his movements.

“I’m fine, just.. One more finger? And then- and then I’m ready.”

Miguel nodded. He grabbed the lube and applied more before pressing a third finger in. Connor grunted, sitting up on his elbows and shifting to get more comfortable. Miguel eyed him intently, making sure he wasn’t in pain as he pumped his fingers in and out. He used his free hand to grab Connor’s dick, distracting him from the unpleasant stretching sensation.

Connor moaned, bucking his hips. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said after another minute.

“You sure?” When Connor nodded, Miguel gently pulled out. He motioned for Connor to trade places with him, so he could lie down. Connor’s legs shook as he sat up, and he had to grab onto Miguel to steady himself.

“You good there, _principito_?” Miguel smirked.

Connor glared at him. “Shut it.”

Miguel snickered, rolling a condom on. He squeezed some lube into his hand, applying a generous amount, then nodding at Connor. Connor took a deep breath, straddling Miguel’s hips.

“Take your time, okay?” Miguel reminded him.

Connor nodded, grabbing Miguel’s dick and lining up. He took a deep breath in, let it out, relaxed his muscles and sank down. He grunted, pausing to let his body adjust. Miguel rubbed his thighs soothingly. After a minute, he sank down a little bit more, whimpering when he was fully seated. He slumped forward, letting his hair hide his face.

“You’re so beautiful, _principito_ ,” Miguel murmured, resting his hands on Connor’s hips. “Move when you’re ready.”

Connor nodded, sitting up and bracing his hands against Miguel’s chest. He gave an experimental roll of his hips, which made Miguel moan, gripping Connor’s hips tighter. Connor quirked a brow, pushing himself up, then back down, rolling his hips again.

“Shit,” Miguel gasped, eyes widening.

Connor grinned cheekily at him, repeating his motions, but moving faster, grinding into Miguel each time. He clenched his muscles, then relaxed them, making Miguel cry out.

“ _Fuck, principito_ ,” he groaned, bucking his hips in sync with Connor’s movement. He angled his hips differently each time, until Connor choked back a whine, and he knew he’d hit the right spot.

They moved together, gasping, panting, and shaking, until-

“I’m close,” Connor moaned, picking up the pace. Miguel wrapped his hands around Connor’s dick again, pumping up and down, flicking his wrist. Connor moaned, gasping and clenching down on Miguel. Miguel whined at the absolute pleasure rolling through him, his body shaking with the effort of holding his orgasm back; he was focused on Connor, though, on making sure Connor came first.

“Mmmmff _fffuuccckkkk_ ,” Connor cried, throwing his head back as he came. That was all it took to send Miguel over the edge, his entire body shaking from the force of his orgasm.

Connor collapsed forward, head on Miguel’s shoulder, gasping and panting.

“That was fucking amazing, _principito_ ,” Miguel grinned, giving his hips one last squeeze. “You sure you haven’t done this before?”

Connor rolled his eyes, wincing a little as he carefully pulled off Miguel, then collapsed beside him. Miguel pulled off the condom, tying and tossing it. He used a towel he’d grabbed to wipe off his stomach, then opened his arms for Connor, who happily snuggled close.

Miguel kissed the top of his head.

“I’m sleepy,” Connor mumbled, closing his eyes.

Miguel chuckled. “I’m sure you are, after a performance like that.”

Connor wrinkled his nose, slapping weakly at Miguel’s arm.

“How about we nap, shower, then go grab a bite to eat somewhere?” Miguel asked after he’d managed to stop laughing.

“Sounds like a plan,” Connor yawned, snuggling closer. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, _principito_.”


End file.
